The Accident

November 30, 2015.

Was at the bank with my sister. Kid brother, 17, was on a bus to Akure.

About 45 minutes later I got a call from an unknown number. My brother had been involved in a fatal accident. His bus had somersaulted a few times after a tire burst in motion.

Two people died on the spot, while others sustained injuries of varying degrees. He was lucky. He got only a few cuts to his shoulder and upper arm.

He’d passed out during the topsy-turvy, and had no idea how he ended up in the centre of the road, blood gushing out of his arm. His phone, wallet, bag and guitar were nowhere to be found. He had no idea he had a guitar. He found his towel and used it to reduce the bleeding.

Back at the bank, we were scared as hell. Once we ascertained he was okay, we begged him to take the next bus or cab home so he could get good healthcare. They hadn’t gotten too far. They were just around Ife when the tire went rogue. But a whole thirty minutes in, the FRSC finally came around, took them all to OAUTH.

There at the hospital, the driver’s legs were put in a cast. They had been badly damaged and he was probably going to lose them. His colleagues had paid for this.

A young woman was having trouble breathing and urgently required oxygen to have any hope of survival. The doctors nonchalantly announced there was no oxygen. She died not long after. That made her the third casualty, but her death was completely unnecessary.

A few other people, with all kinds of injuries requiring immediate attention were refused treatment: the hospital wouldn’t treat them without being paid first.

“Why couldn’t they treat them first and ask for money later?” He asked me sometime later.

Later that evening, he took another bus and proceeded to school. “I couldn’t imagine myself traveling all over again. I won’t be taking the bus for a while.”

I understood. He had watched three people die. While we walked on an evening about a week after, he looked at me and said, “I love you bro.”

I just wanted to hug him. But I simply laughed and called him, “Wussy.”

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